Sell Your Soul
by Manya-Dono
Summary: Drabble, gore, AU. My own twist on Judal's Falling.
**I know this isn't how Falling works in cannon, but I think it's an interesting concept. So this is an AU.**

* * *

"Gyokuen-sama, where are we going?"

Tiny little words float adrift. The high queen answers not, ignoring them in favor of leaving the helpless child in the dark. The soft obsidian shadows that surround the hallways are palpable and seep comfortably into Gyokuen's skin in warm, slow ripples. Her Rukh, enormous, inky butterflies, are invisible in this darkness, and they lurk like tiny, solemn assassins awaiting the kill.

Gyokuen and her Rukh melt into the dark, blending in with perfect camouflage; it's Judal, however, who stands out like a slick of oil across a watery surface. His Rukh, ashen white, are fluterring rappily with hushed anxiety. They cling to his small form, knowing well their inevitable fate should they drift a bit too far off - when the shadows crush them with pressure, suffocating their pure and wretched light.

Upon receiving no answer, oblivious and quite afraid Judal asks yet again, "Where are we going, Gyokuen-sama?"

And so yet again, Gyokuen chooses silence as opposed to revealing to the youthful Magi their exact destination. Judal should as least know as much as that they had entered a tower - a relatively stout tower, mind you, quite close to the ground. Still, inside, however, an echoed repetition of countless spiral staircase ran along the narrows walls. The tower ran itself impossibly deep into the earth's tender core. Gyokuen wordlessly ordered Judal to follow her, and follow he did. And so without light nor information on their destination which was undoubtedly at the bottom of the spirals, this experience in the tower was a right terror to Judal. It didn't help that his Rukh were frightened of _something_ , something that Judal was quite sure he couldn't say. No, his Rukh's knowledge of only the horrors that lay before them sent fear throughout every bone in Judal's body in a crazed frenzy.

Gyokuen herself didn't know all that much about the tower, this being odd, what with Gyokuen being the only incarnation of Arba, Goddess of Depravity herself. The only information Gyokuen had been able to collect of the tower was that it existed in a dimension all it's own - that, and the fact that, with the lightless surroundings and strange, quite little noises that echoed through the expanse, the isolated little room at the bottom of the tower is the ideal place for Falling.

Interestingly odd sounds that could've been mistaken for whistling echoing through the spiral is what tells Gyokuen that they've near reached the bottom. In a swift movement, the queen about faces and directs her attention at Judal, who's just about fallen on his face from the shock of Gyokuen's abrupt movements.

"Strip." is what she utters at the tiny boy, who is shaking with anxiety and who's Rukh is near screeching out in fear.

Judal's eyes grow impossibly large, and it isn't that he doesn't understand the command, it's simply logic telling him that that doesn't make enough sense for it to really be what Gyokuen said in the first place. He whimpers a little noise of incomprehension, but Gyokuen doesn't respond. He stares into her eyes. Her face is serious and uncharacteristically stoic, but her eyes are smiling. They're smiling the wrong kind of smile.

With little hesitation, Judal does as he is told. He unties ribbons, untucks fabric, and drops it all on the ground in a frilly heap. Without his layers, or any clothes at all, Judal realizes that it's also _cold_ in the tower, which only adds to his shudders and impulsive shakes.

Gyokuen scoops up the pile - a characteristically swift movement - and begins to proceed down the rest of the spiral, into the unforgiving shadows. Judal follows.

In the cold, Judal wraps his arms around himself. They're thin and bony, a sign of a lack of proper nutrition, but they're all he's got. Walking bare naked in such a dark place as this is quite a strange sensation indeed. Oddly enough, Judal feels like he's swimming through the inky, black lightlessness. In odd patches of black, it's darker even, and Judal gets the strange feeling of tiny bites at his flesh. Terror bubbles back up in his stomach, and it sends icy shockwaves through him, spreading through every inch of his body, into every nook and cranny until fear is the _only_ thing he can think about. Judal only wants his clothing back, wants to get _out_ of this hellhole, wants to go _home-_

Gyokuen opens something. It's the distinctive crunch and click of door - a reasonably old door, judging by the harsh, high-pitched squeaks in howls out - and curiosity has the gal to try to swim through the soupy fear that's been radiating off of Judal's scrawny body. Gyokuen steps inside wherever the door leads, and wordlessly again, instructs Judal to follow. He does.

As he steps off the last stair he half-expects there to be another, and when there _isn't_ , he falls onto his knees, bursting open the tender blood vessels that run through the thin layer of flesh between skin and bone.

Judal stand again, and regains his footing, and follows the darkest shadow of all; Gyokuen's figure. Ah. She's led him to a tiny room, from what he can tell. The floor is hard cold stone, and from what Judal can see, the walls are as well. A ghost of a smile spreads across Gyokuen's porcelain face, and she grabs his tiny, dry hands, in her own soft ones.

When she opens her mouth to speak, it isn't dry from misuse like Judal expects it to be, but instead it's smooth and liquid. "I'm going to need you to stay here for a while, okay? Can you do that for me, Judal dear?" Gyokuen's soft alto is the only warmth in this dark pit.

Judal knows that he can't, and he wants to tell her that he _can't_ , but instinct kicks in before logic can object, and he nods his head obediently. Gyokuen cocks her head to side and smiles bittersweetly, the lets go of Judal's hands and stands up. And leaves the room.

Oh. Judal didn't quite expect her to do that, for some reason.

Judal hears the closing and _locking_ of the door, and his reaction is instant. He stumbles upward onto shaky legs and runs towards the door, banging on the cold, slick metal and screaming everything that he can. " _Please come back It's dark and It's cold and I can't see Gyokuen-sama Please-_ " His desperate pleas are harsh and don't quite make all that much sense, but Judal's anxiety is on override and he isn't really thinking.

This horrific symphony continues on for a good few hours, before Judal can't take it anymore and collapses, carmine eyes glazed over and face devoid of any and all emotion.

There are eyes in the shadows, hungry, opportunitive eyes, that witness this display. They begin to engulf the little boy, swallowing him. Inky blackness pours off the walls in succession, and seeps into Judal's ashen skin. Upon touching the darkness, the desperately fluttering Rukh begin to _burn_. They cry out in terror, but Judal doesn't hear. No, all Judal can hear is the echoed whispers that reach deep into his soul.

 _You're so angry with her. You hate her, don't you?_

With shaken words Judal attempts to protest in reply. "N-No, I d-don't hate Gyokuen-sama..."

 _No, you're right. You don't hate her exclusively. You hate all of them, don't you? You hate them for hurting you, for using you, for locking you away down here... It feels like you're all alone, doesn't it?_

"I-I am... alone..."

 _No, you're not alone anymore. I'm here with you! Don't worry, everything will be perfectly okay, as long as you have me..._

"Y-You won't leave m-me, will you?"

 _Of course not! I'll be with you forever and ever, so long as you can give me something..._

"W-What do you want?! I don't h-have anything!"

 _Mmm, all I need is your soul. Sell me your soul, Judal, and you'll always have me..._

"W-Well, I... Wait! Who are you anyway?!"

 _My name is Depravity, Judal. And I love you. I love you more than anything else ever can... So won't you give me your soul, so I can love you forever?_

Judal hiccups, and shakes. Forever. That's a long time. And he _wants_ to be loved, and wanted. If only he sells his soul, then he can be loved for such a long, long time. With a last, shuddering breath, he utters, "Yes."

 _Mmmmm... It's done, then._

And then suddenly Judal _feels_ it. He can feel the thick, glossy, inky slime penetrate his skin, flooding into his body. His blood bubbles up and burns like acid, gushing out of eyes, ears, and every other hole in his body. He attempts to open his mouth to scream, but a long, snake-like creature of shadows snakes it's way into his mouth and forces itself down his throat.

Hot blood, now stained black and it's _thick_ , much more so than before, seeps through his eyes, charring them until vision is no longer available. Something that feels like a person - no, it can't quite be, he's the only one down here - rips out his tongue in a fluid motion, giving entryway for another snake of shadow. Where there is room for it, inky blood gushes out in great succession, staining everything in a thick sheen of sticky liquid.

With his throat having been torn apart due to many a strange creature forcing itself down his esophagus, Judal isn't able to scream when his stomach suddenly burst, and a flurry of what could only be called none other than black Rukh flutter out. Swarms of the black butterflies flit about and peck at his already tender, burning flesh like scavenging birds of prey.

It's in the last few moments that everything becomes impossibly solid. Blood crystalizes, shadow becomes substance - and the weight of it is _too much_. They crush the little boy's bones with their weight and pressure. Splinters and fragments fly outward, and land on the sticky stone ground when black Rukh begin to devour them savagely. With sickening crunches Judal's jaw snaps into thousands of bits, and so does his spine, and neckbone as well.

Finally a fierce pressure like one thousand tons of bricks piles onto his head - what's left of it, anyways. His skull eventually breaks with an enormous _crunch_ , and Judal looses the consciousness that he's been forced to keep all this time.

 _..._

When Judal does wake up, he finds that it appears that his body has been built anew. There's a strange new sensation of feeling to it, as though he's sharing his body with someone - or some _thing_ \- else. Glancing around, he sees the Rukh, but it's not the angelic white it once was. No, this Rukh is the same monstrous black butterflies that had previously picking apart his flesh from the inside out.

Judal also mentally feels different, as well. This hellhole isn't scary anymore. In fact, this is indeed Judal's _favorite_ place he's ever been to. And Judal doesn't quite have the ability to _care_ , not about Gyokuen, or Al Sarmen, or all the other children that he had once enjoyed spending his days with. No - _he's_ the only thing that matters, the only thing that ever has.

 _Mmm. Happy, now? You're quite stronger, too._

It's Depravity's voice that shakes Judal up, both physically and mentally. It isn't like it was before. Now it vibrates through his bones, through his entire being.

 _You see, now we're both joined in spirit and body. So we can be together. Forever._

With a look in his eyes that's quite unbecoming of a five-year-old, and a giddiness that should only be possessed by drunk and cheery men, Judal smiles madly and laughs. It's different than the cute, quiet giggles that he would give before. This laugh is the roaring, insane sound of Depravity in his brain, in his body.

 _Together._

In his mind, Depravity repeated this word over and over, which only served to make Judal even more twisted and giddy.

 _Together, we don't need them. They aren't our Fate anymore. Together we'll kill them, kill them all, and take Life into our own hands. Together. Together..._

Alone in the tower, Judal collapses as he listens to the voice with mad glee, wraps his arms around himself, and _laughs_.

 _..._

When Gyokuen comes back the next morning, she's carrying a bundle of clothing, some food, as well as some drink. The tower feels slightly different somehow, perhaps a little bit darker, which is certainly a good sign. She can also hear quite little whispers that drift up and up the spirals, and into her ears like honey. She smirks.

She can nearly _taste_ the fresh Depravity. A bitter, sharp taste, that reeks of blood and magic and anger and fear. No wonder this tower is the ideal spot for Falling - the only _existence_ in this place is Depravity itself, and it _thrives_.

When Gyokuen does arrive at the little room at the bottom of the spirals, she's less than surprised to hear the crazed sound of someone talking to themselves. Or, more likely, talking to Depravity. She unlocks the door with a _click_ and steps inside, where everything is _certainly_ darker than before, and the iron stench of blood forces itself into her nose nastily. There's also the telltale metallic odor that strong magic often carries, which is slightly comforting when in comparison to the disgusting reek of blood.

In a corner of the room, a naked little boy sits, arms wrapped around his belly, quietly talking to himself. Upon Gyokuen's entering the room, Judal turns her way, and his bloody irises _glow_. An insane smile spreads across his face, and he whispers near silently, "Welcome back, Gyokuen-sama."


End file.
